


Ika'ika's First Step

by Lailuva



Series: 101 Yoditos AU [17]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Actual Baby baby yoda, Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Fluff, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lailuva/pseuds/Lailuva
Summary: The littlest Yodito starts to move all on his own.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Ika'ika, Din Djarin & the 101
Series: 101 Yoditos AU [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065464
Kudos: 37





	Ika'ika's First Step

**Author's Note:**

> From an anonymous Tumblr prompt, "More Ika’ika please!!!"

The sun was shining, there was a cool breeze keeping the day from being too hot, and the kids were happily playing in the area with the Sorgan children and Boga Jr. under IG-11’s watchful eyes. But all of Din’s attention was currently focused on the little one across from him.

“Come on,” he said, rattling the ring of bells in his hand and trying not to feel stupid. “Ika’ika. Come here.”

The infant stared at him, gurgling, and flailed his limbs. He was stuck on his belly, mirroring Din who was laying down across from him; he tried pushing himself up, but then collapsed. “You can do it,” Din said encouragingly, rattling the bells again and making Ika’ika’s huge pale blue eyes focus on the noise. “Come on, Ika’ika.”

Din felt the pressure of someone clambering on his back and then flopping themselves down on top of the helmet, claws clicking against the beskar. “What are you doing, Dad?” asked Yod’ika.

“Trying to see if I can get Ika’ika to crawl,” said Din.

Ika’ika was so much stronger than he’d been when Din first found all the children on Kamino. Then, the infant had barely been able to lift his head on his own or even cry. Din had hardly dared to touch him, so afraid that one movement too rough or sudden would break him; reading the files he’d stolen from the Kamino lab and finding out the host DNA used was so degraded that the batch of clones Ika’ika had been a part of had had a host of genetic deformities made him fear that Ika’ika wouldn’t even survive. But once he’d brought the kids to Sorgan, Ika’ika hadn’t just survived but thrived, and now he was constantly trying to stand up on his arms and legs and attempting to push himself forwards or backwards, which Omera said was the precursor to crawling. It was exciting, even if Ika’ika was about to lose his status of being the only child out of the 101 who actually stayed where Din put him.

“He’s not crawling, Dad,” said Yod’ika.

“I know.” Din rattled the bells again, but Ika’ika ignored them, now interested in a bug crawling across the blanket. He reached out, fingers grasping clumsily for it, and when he opened his mouth wide Din quickly swiped the bug away. “No, don’t eat that. Come here.” Din patted the blanket, making Ika’ika look up at the helmet and show his toothless gums in a drooly smile. Din rattled the toy again. “Ika’ika. K’olar, k’olar.”

Ika’ika raised himself up on his arms, and for one moment Din thought he was going to move, but then Ika’ika just rolled over and squealed in delight, clutching at his toes and drawing them into his mouth.

Din sighed, tossing the toy down. “Guess he’s not going to today.”

Claws clicked against the helmet, and after a moment Yod’ika says, “He’s bored with that toy. That’s why he won’t come over.”

Din believed him; Yod’ika and his oldest brothers were uncannily good at knowing what the babies wanted. “Can you get one for him?” Din asked. He felt the pressure lift from his head and a body sliding down his back, and watched his oldest toddle off to the nearby toy basket.

Din rested his chin on his hands, watching his youngest while he waited for the new toy. Ika’ika seemed perfectly happy and his skin was still its usual almost-white pale green; they were in the shadiest spot Din could find, because too much sunlight made Ika’ika burn badly and quickly, and Din had yet to find a sunblock that didn’t make him break out in an allergic rash. But you’d never know right now; Ika’ika cooed cheerfully, kicking his feet in the air and waving his arms. Din reached out and wiggled a finger over him and Ika’ika grasped it tightly, pulling it down to his mouth and gnawing it, slobbering over the glove. He must be getting hungry; it’d been almost two hours since his last feeding, and his stomach was so tiny he needed to eat frequently.

“This one, Dad,” said Yod’ika, hurrying back over and tossing a toy down in front of Din before climbing back onto his head.

Din suppressed a sigh; of course it was the damn Mandalorian squeaker Cara had found in a thrift shop and brought back for him, howling with laughter. It looked nothing like a real Mandalorian - cartoonish proportions and garish turquoise armor - but the kids had loved their new “toy dad” so much he never would’ve gotten away with getting rid of it.

“Ika’ika. Hey.” Din grabbed his littlest one and flipped him over back onto his stomach; Ika’ika squeaked and gurgled but didn’t roll back over. “Ika’ika,” Din repeated, and when the baby kept staring up at Yod’ika, he sighed and squeezed the toy.

Ika’ika was instantly attracted by the squeak, cooing excitedly and flapping his arms, his comically oversized ears flying upright. “Come get it,” Din said encouragingly, squeaking the stupid toy again. “K’olar, Ika’ika, k’olar.”

“Come here, Ika’ika,” said Yod’ika.

“Don’t use the Force on him. Let him do it himself,” Din reminded his oldest; the other babies loved being moved telekinetically by their older brothers even though Din swore he felt his hair turning grey every time they did it. He squeaked the toy a few more times, watching Ika’ika fixate on it, his blue eyes widening with definite want, his arms flailing desperately and his feet kicking the blanket. “Come here,” Din said. “You can do it.”

Tiny little claws hooked in the blanket. Ika’ika wiggled like a fish out of water, but then managed to scooch himself forward.

“Jate! Jate!” Din squeaked the toy some more. “Come here, ad’ika!”

“Come on, Ika’ika!” encouraged Yod’ika.

Ika’ika squealed with excitement, feet digging into the blanket and pushing against the ground and arms clumsily shoving himself forward, but he made it another inch forward, ears flopping with the movement. He squeaked and gurgled, and with effort pushed himself up on his arms and pushed himself even further forward, tipping forward onto his face.

Din caught him before he went facefirst into the blanket, helping him back upright. Ika’ika grasped his finger and looked up with a huge smile.

“Jate, jate, Ika’ika,” Din said, unable to stop himself from matching that smile. Ika’ika cooed and Din handed him the toy, as big as he was. Ika’ika immediately hugged it, giggling as it squeaked and accidentally rolling back over.

“He did it, Dad!” said Yod’ika. “He crawled!”

“He did,” said Din. He caught Ika’ika and gently turned him on his side so he didn’t get stuck under the Mandalorian toy, cupping him in his hand to keep him upright; the baby was barely any longer than his hand. “He’s getting so big.”


End file.
